


You Could Never Be Satisfied

by pdoesart (elphie_jolras)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: (un)happy endings, 100 Drabble Challenge, Biracial Character, F/M, Female Character of Color, HOC (Hawke of Color), Hawke supports mages, Rival Relationship, Rivalmance, They're really into each other's eyes, biracial Sebastian, but what did you expect from a rivalmance?, just a warning in advance, she loves him but DAMN do they disagree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elphie_jolras/pseuds/pdoesart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 100 Day Challenge chronicling the relationship between Shahnaz Hawke and Sebastian Vael, from the very first time they met to the bitter end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> challenge is here: http://30daychallengearchive.tumblr.com/post/36506942591/100-theme-challenge
> 
> I just made Shahnaz yesterday, so these will be churned out as I complete this playthrough. It's also the first time I'm romancing Sebastian, so there's that.

Hawke sees him raging outside the Chantry, demanding Justice for his fallen family, and something stirs within her.  She’s lost her brother and her father — Maker knows that she would search for revenge upon their killers, if she could.  But her family wasn’t torn apart by people, not like his were.  And so she throws herself into helping as best as she can, tearing her way through the mercenary company and letting her daggers do their work.  She has to do it, knowing his pain as she does.  She thinks that she would do anything for the man with the bright blue eyes.

Sebastian only meets her after she avenges his family, and he is taken by the powerful woman who gently explains what she has done.  The other brothers and sisters stare, he can feel them, and he knows that they’re looking at her simply because she is so _strange_.  Not many folks in Kirkwall have skin the color of ebony, or those kinky curls… the others in the Chantry are wary of the wicked daggers strapped to her back, but all he can see is the unearthly gold of her eyes.


	2. Spell

She isn’t a mage, but that doesn’t matter.  It feels like she’s cast a spell on him nevertheless, and she snakes her way into her thoughts day after day after day, a temptation he cannot rid himself of.  He barely knows her but those gold eyes haunt him, _burn_ him and force him to pray harder than ever because surely only a demon could torture him like this.  Surely this thing that holds her shape is not truly the young woman who helped him, because she was kind and gentle and this… _this_ is anything but.  He barely knows her, but they know each other’s names, and there are stories in Starkhaven about forgeign witches who can weave spells and curses with little more than the name of the intended victim.

 

He tries, but he cannot wipe Shahnaz Hawke from his mind.


	3. Woods

There aren’t woods in the Free Marches.

 

At least, not around Kirkwall, and not woods like they have back in Ferelden, where the forest floor is soft under the bare feet of young children, and there is nothing to fear as long as they don’t stray too far from home.

 

The Free Marches have sparse woodlands, and it makes Hawke’s heart _ache_ for her childhood in a way nothing else does; when they make their way up to Sundermount, she glances to her right and half-thinks that she sees Carver and Bethany as they were years ago, playing tag with her.  But they aren’t there, they _aren’t_ , and she’s just imagining things as she always does.

 

Carver is dead, she reminds herself; Carver is _dead_ and _gone_ and Bethany is trapped in the Circle with nothing and no one.  And that reminder makes her posture crumple, her face fall, all energy fall out of her.  She calls a halt to their march, and they set up camp for the night.  Sebastian sees her mood and lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, squeezing as he crouches beside her.

 

“You may not want to talk,” he says softly, “But I am here if you do.”

 

Something akin to happiness curls up within her chest, and she smiles up at the prince.

 

“Thank you.”


	4. Dark

Hawke hasn’t been afraid of the dark since she was a little girl, because she learned quickly that she could protect herself against anything and everything that came from the shadows.  She’s been deadly from a young age, able and willing to stick her daggers in anything that threatens her and her family.  Sharing a room with Bethany helped, too; her sister picked up early how to create nightlights for Shahnaz.

 

But ever since the Deep Roads, since Bethany’s being taken to the Circle, the fear has come back in full force.  She becomes paralyzed by it, gripping her quilt until her knuckles turn pale as she tries not to imagine darkspawn in every shadow.  She has to keep a fire burning all night, and she’s quickly given up on her mother’s lifelong crusade to keep Peanut off of the bed.  The Mabari is the closest thing she has to comfort, and she isn’t about to give that up.  But on the road, with noises that _could_ be bandits and nothing more than a low-burning campfire, she finds it impossible to sleep.

 

One night, she crawls into Sebastian’s tent, half-asleep, too exhausted to think straight.

 

“Hawke, what — ”

 

“Can’t sleep alone,” she huffs out, flopping beside him but not touching him, “Too dangerous.”

 

The unspoken words are _I’m too afraid; don’t leave me alone_.  Thankfully, Sebastian understands this and that he shouldn’t say anything about her lie.  He just offers her a slight smile and closes his eyes again, waiting for the moment that her breathing goes deep and even, waiting until she falls asleep.

 

Hawke doesn’t need to touch someone for comfort; she just needs to know that she isn’t alone in the dark.


	5. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke wishes that she loves anyone other than Sebastian, but she meets a stranger who changes her view.

Hawke wishes that she wasn’t attracted to Sebastian.  She wishes that her heart could beat faster around somebody, _anybody_ else.

 

“I know how you feel.”

 

The speaker is a slight woman, impossibly pale, with large blue eyes and a thick plait of auburn hair.  She’s an elf — that much would be obvious from the large eyes and petite frame, even if Hawke _couldn’t_ see the points of her ears — and she’s no older than twenty-five.  Still, despite her youth, there is a weariness in her eyes, like she’s seen too much.

 

Hawke is sure that her eyes have the same look to them.

 

“Loving someone who you can’t have,” the elf continues, and Hawke opens to ask both a) who the hell she is, and b) how the hell she knows about Sebastian.  “It’s awful.  Trust me; I was — am — in love with a royal bastard.  Not a good plan for a mage of any sort, least of all an elf.  But I was young and foolish, and I didn’t realize at the time that he was the bastard son of a _king_ …”

 

Sweet Andraste, does this woman ever shut up?

 

“Wait,” Shahnaz cuts in, holding her hands up, brow twisting in confusion, “Who are you?  And are you talking about King _Alistair_?”

 

The elf lets out an awkward laugh; “Leliana always said to talk less and smile more,” she mutters, and then turns a brilliant smile upon the rogue.  “Alexandra Surana, at your service.”

 

The Hero of Ferelden.  Hawke almost laughs; the stories and rumors have painted her as a fearsome woman, ambitious and ruthless and unafraid to grab what she wants.  Not as a slip of a thing who talks too much and apparently had some sort of affair with King Alistair.

 

“Anyway,” Surana continues, as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “Alistair and I were happy.  He loved me, and I loved him.  But it wasn’t enough, not for the Landsmeet.  An elf could never be queen, not even if that elf had saved their _lives_.  And I couldn’t live as a mistress — Alistair would never agree with that, regardless.”

 

Hawke opens her mouth again, but Alexandra is plowing forward, somehow spewing words even though she hasn’t breathed in a good minute and a half.  Shahnaz wants to know how the elf does it.

 

“But you should take whatever happiness you can get, because you never know when you might lose the ones you love.  We live in dangerous times, dangerous situations, and more often than not people end up hurt.  Yes, my heart was broken, but I would rather that than never have loved him at all.”

 

The warden opens one clenched hand, revealing a carefully dried rose.

 

Suddenly, the way Hawke’s heart beats faster when she sees Sebastian doesn’t seem so bad.


	6. Potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is injured.

“Hawke!”

  
There’s genuine fear in the prince’s voice as he watches the woman fall, bleeding heavily from a stab wound to the side.  He almost calls for Anders, but the healer isn’t with them (Hawke left him at home; “He needs sleep,” she’d told Sebastian with the sort of concern she holds for all of them).  Regardless of how Sebastian feels about the abomination, Anders is their only healer, and he’s good at his art.

 

But he isn’t there.

 

Sebastian sprints toward her, falling to his knees beside Hawke.  His dagger flashes silver in the dim light, cutting away part of her shirt, revealing the wound and the blood welling from it.  It’s _bad._

 

“Hey,” Hawke says weakly, offering him a grin, “I probably should have seen that one coming, huh?”

 

“Shh,” he admonishes, one hand digging into his satchel for a health potion.  His fingers tremble as he pulls the cork from the bottle’s neck, and he tries to keep them still.  It will do no good to let his nerves take hold now.  It takes precious seconds to lift her into a sitting position, and even then she’s half-laying in his lap, her head on his chest.

 

Her eyes, normally liquid gold, are dulled with pain.  The gentle curve of her smile looks forced, and his heart twists at the sight.  Bringing the bottle to her lips, he tilts it so that the liquid pours into her mouth.  “Drink,” he commands, and she dutifully obeys.  No sign of pain is made but for a slight shudder as flesh begins to knit itself back together.

 

“Disgusting,” she comments, lip curling, “I miss Anders.”

 

“You should have brought him,” Sebastian responds simply, tossing the empty bottle across the square.  With his fear gone, there is a rage curling tight in his chest — the sight of glass shattering against the stones brings him far more satisfaction than it should.  Hawke’s injury wasn’t that bad, he reprimands himself — the potion healed her completely.  Even know she’s pulling herself onto her feet, staggering away.  But something about her makes him act without logic, makes him feel things more strongly. “Alternatively, don’t go gallivanting off at night, Hawke.  It isn’t _wise_.”

 

“If you think I do things for the sake of wisdom, Ser Vael, you do not know me that well.”

 

_Ser Vael_.  He hasn’t been Ser Vael since she discovered his views on mages.  _Ser Vael_ means that she’s pulling back, retreating behind her walls.  Her words are delivered coolly, and they strike at his heart like daggers.

 

He begins to apologize, knowing that she fights these battles for the safety of the people: “Hawke, I…”

 

“I’m going home, Sebastian,” Shahnaz says flatly, “Stay safe.”

 

And then she disappears into the night.


	7. Element

 

Hawke is made of fire.

 

She’s made of fire and he doesn’t understand how she hasn’t burned out yet, how she can live when everything she is comes from flames. He can see them in the golden undertones of her mahogany skin, in the light of her eyes.  It’s _her_ element, just like the sisters say water is his.  Surely that means that they will only lead to the destruction of each other, but that doesn’t factor into this completely illogical attraction to her.

 

They’ll be walking and she’ll toss her head, and his eyes subconsciously track the movement of her curls as they settle back into place.  She stretches and he watches the way her muscles flex, and he knows it’s wrong, but he can’t tear his eyes away.  She’s burning _him_ , that’s for sure, with her gaze like flames and the curve of her lips that is simply _sin._

 

Water is made to put _out_ fire, he reminds himself, water is stronger than flames could ever be.  But when Hawke smiles at him he goes weak in the knees, and it takes all of his will to remember his vows to the Maker.  It was flames that killed Andraste, he remembers, and it will be the flames of Hawke that kill him.

 

And yet he can't find it within himself to care.


	8. Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so I am obviously not doing one of these every day (whoops) but I picked up da2 again, so here you go!

The first night she dreams of Sebastian, she dreams of his death.

  
She dreams that he falls at her hand, that he became a monster and she had no choice, that it was him or her family and there was no _choice_ , not really.  One Chantry brother or her sister, her best friend.  She dreams that the knife slips in silently, sliding between plates of white armor, and she dreams that even when the blood spurts forth and the light fades from his eyes, she does not falter.

 

There was no choice — so why does she wake with tears streaming down her face?

 

The second time, she dreams that the world is ending.

 

The world is ending; the city is burning around them, and their hair is coated with a fine layer of white from the ash falling from the sky.  She dreams that she kisses him as the world falls down around them, and she dreams that the kiss speaks a thousand words that she could never articulate.

 

She tells her mother about the dreams, half-heartedly.  Leandra smiles, gentler than she has been since coming to this Maker-forsaken pit of a city, and brushes Hawke’s hair back from her face.  She tells Shahnaz that it’s a sign, that it’s her spirit calling out to the prince’s.  Hawke doesn’t know whether or not to believe her; she doesn’t quite _want_ to.  There  are things about Sebastian that anger her, that make her turn her back on him.  But there are things about him that catch her eye, that make her stop and look at him and she has to catch a breath because in those moments he is _beautiful_.

 

In those moments, she thinks that she might love him.

 

Maybe Leandra’s right; maybe it is their spirits, or their souls, calling out for each other.  Or maybe Shahnaz is a silly little girl who has too much of a romantic in her heart for her own good.


	9. Fear

Hawke pretends not to he afraid, but Sebastian always seems to see through it.  He's picked up so easily on how she acts when afraid, and no matter how much she hides, it he always _knows_.  
  
When her mom goes missing, when all they find are the white flowers, Sebastian can tell that Hawke is frayed and falling apart, like a cloak worn through too many winters.  She tries to make jokes but there is an undercurrent of panic in her voice, a desperate rhythm to her words.  She sounds ready to fall apart.  
  
His heart has never _ached_ for another like this before.  
  
When they find her mother, when they see the monstrosity that Leandra has been turned into, Hawke turns on the man who did it with rage burning in her gold eyes.  She does not equivocate, does not mince her words - she is so unlike her usual kind self, so angry, so brash.  She throws a dagger and it embeds itself in the blood mage's throat, and while he chokes on his own blood Hawke cries.  She _cries_ and tells the remnant of her mother that she is sorry for everything, that she should have been a better daughter, that nothing has gone right and Shahnaz is sorry for ruining their lives.  
  
"Shh," says Leandra, "I should have told you more... I am so proud of you."  
  
"Ma," Hawke sobs, clutching at the body which was _not_ her mother's "Ma..."  
  
"Do one thing for me," Leandra requests, "Love him.  Love him and don't let him go, not as long as he makes you happy.  I just... I want you to be happy."  
  
"Okay, mama."  
  
"Shahnaz..." There is desperation in her voice, the voice of a mother with too much to say and not enough time, "I don't... I don't blame you."  
  
And Leandra slips into the void.  
  
Hawke stands.  She sniffs once.  
  
"We're leaving," she says flatly.  Sebastian knows instantly that some part of her is closed off, beyond his reach - he wants it back.  He needs it back, desperately, needs the girl with the soft eyes and the softer smile, not this stone-faced woman who is all that remains.  
  
He worries, because she has pretended to be unafraid for so long, but now she has shown fear.  He worries what she will do to try and reassure them that she is strong.  He cannot tell her that her strength lies in what she deems weaknesses.  
  
He is trained to comfort those who have experienced loss, but nothing the Chantry has given him eases Hawke's heart.  Her frayed and brittle heart has _shattered_ , and a man of the cloth such as he cannot put it back together, no matter how much he wishes that he could.  She does not want a _priest_ ; she deserves a prince.  
  
He will do that, for her.  It should scare him, how willing he is to give up his piety for her because she thinks he is better served as a prince than a priest.  But though Sebastian fears many things, he does not fear his love for her.


	10. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote these on a long car ride so? That's why two are done :)

****Hawke is all that remains, and it is winter in Kirkwall.  Bethany in the Circle, Carver and her mother and her father dead... There is nothing left for her but her drive to do the right thing.  
  
And Sebastian.  
  
Her mother's dying request echoes in her ears, clings to her mind and her life.  
  
 _Love him_.  How easy it sounds, how _simple_!  But for all she likes about Sebastian, there is the fact of his tie to the Chantry.  She cares about him, perhaps more deeply than she should, but the Chantry preaches a version of Andraste's word that she finds unpleasant.  She believes in the Maker, loves Him and His Bride, but the Mothers say prayers that lie sour upon her tongue.  
  
She cannot condone the villification of her sister, cannot stand the idea that people see Bethany as a danger, as something twisted and wrong.  It _disgusts_ her.  
  
Her soul is cold, frozen, but her heart aches and burns for the prince who became a priest.  Winters in Kirkwall are bitter cold, but it never seems to snow.  In all of her years there, it has snowed perhaps twice - but this winter seems to be an exception.  
  
Despite her aversion to certain aspects of the Chantry, Hawke still has faith in the Maker.  She still prays to Him.  And so, she is in the Chantry one morning when the snow begins to fall.  Still a child at heart, she lets out a squeak of excitement and races to find Sebastian.  He's praying as well, bowed before Andraste with his hands clasped together.  
  
"Sebastian!"  She races toward him, heedless of anything in her way, "Follow me! It's _important_!"  
  
"Hawke?"  Sebastian springs to his feet, wrapping his hands around her wrists, "What is it?"  
  
She laughs - the first genuine laugh since Leandra's death - and pulls him toward her in delight.  "Get your outer wear on," she tells him, "It's _snowing_!"  
  
They stand in the courtyard, hands clasped as Hawke turns her face towards the sky and the fat white flakes falling from above.  Her smile is broad, brilliant, her golden eyes alight with joy, her entire countenance betraying her wonder at the snow.  
  
"Oh, Sebastian!" She exclaims, tilting her head towards him, "Have you ever _seen_ anything so beautiful?"  
  
He has seen snow countless times, and has never been particularly fond of it - far too cold - but the expression on Hawke's face makes the whole thing worth it.  
  
"No," he says, though it is a lie and to lie is to sin.  She is far more beautiful than the snow, more beautiful than any woman he has ever seen.  He adores her - and he wants to tell her that.  "Except, perhaps, _you_."  
  
Hawke actually blushes - imagine that, Shahnaz Hawke blushing at something that can _hardly_ count as a flirtation! - and her lips turn upwards into a smile.  
  
"Oh," she says happily, then, " _Thank you_ , Sebastian."  
  
They stand in silence in the snow until Sebastian starts to shiver, and then they go to the Hanged Man to meet up with their other friends.  
  
Hawke doesn't let go of his hand until they take their seats at the tavern.


End file.
